


It's a Mad World

by listentotheink



Category: One Direction (Band)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2018-01-10 05:46:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1155828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/listentotheink/pseuds/listentotheink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So basically I had a dream about a Zombie Apocalypse with Louis and Harry in it. This is what happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's a Mad World

**Author's Note:**

> So, there wont be a lot of Zombie stuff in this. I know nothing about them and my dream was about Harry and Louis in their bunker. So.

The clocks had stopped at three in the morning. Harry remembers because it was their wedding night, their first time as husbands. Louis had shuddered underneath his touch and come with a cry and then time stopped. It literally stopped. There was no longer any concept of yesterday and tomorrow. There was only the concept of the here and now. And Harry knew in that instant, they were screwed.

“H-Harry.” Louis had reached for him when he rolled over and out of bed, only to move to the window and look down at the street below. It was quiet, for now. No movement on the streets, except for the occasional car that was coming home from the pub down the street. He knew that everyone was sleeping, that no one had suspected anything in the dark of the night. But he knew.

He felt the soft lips press between his shoulder blades as he let out a heavy sigh.

“Come back to bed, please?” Louis said quietly. His feathery hair tickles Harry’s skin and Harry shakes his head. He hopes that Louis can’t feel the pounding of his heart beneath his skin, because it’s completely unrelated to the love that they had just been making, and more because of what’s running through his mind. He had been sensing this was coming. Could feel the tingles of it under his skin. But he had never expected it to come this quickly. He had been thinking another year or two, at most. Not a few weeks.

He had tried talking to Louis, tried making a mental check of what they would need just in case it had happened sooner than expected. But Louis had been so caught up in the wedding that he had barely heard what Harry was saying. Barely paid any attention to what was happening. The whispers, the people going strange. The fact that Harry wouldn’t let him leave the house unless it was broad daylight.

He was just so caught up, and Harry was left to scratch everything down in a leather bound notebook in his desk drawer.

Water. Thats the first thing he needs.

“Give me ten minutes, yeah?” He turns around to press a kiss to the worried crease between Louis’ eyebrows. Louis relaxes into him for a slight moment before Harry pulls back and darts into their bathrooms, stopping the tubs and the sinks and running them full. He does the same in their kitchen, gets as much as he can, and takes count of the water bottles they have in the fridge, makes note of the pans he can fill with it, all while trying to stay calm so Louis doesn’t suspect anything.

A gun. A weapon. Ammunition. That’s what he needed next, and that was something he needed more immediately. But he didn’t know where the fuck he was going to find a weapon. Where was he going to get a gun? He had never even shot one before. And was he going to be able to kill something, even if it was a monster? He had never even been able to make it through the starving children commercials without crying, how was he going to kill something that had once been human?  

He shook his head again, made his way back down the hallway to their bedroom, shutting taps off once the tubs and sinks were full.

He figured if the clocks were out, it was only a matter of time before the internet and phones went out as well, so he sent a massive text message to his family, Louis’ family and all of their friends, telling them that they were safe for now, and would get in contact as soon as they possibly could. He didn’t know when that would be, nor did he know how. And he had a feeling they would be confused when they awoke to that text, but once the mass hysteria broke out, they would know.

He checks his watch which is battery power so it is thankfully still running, still counting the seconds as they tick by into nothing, just moments he’s thankful that he’s alive.

He figures he has thirty minutes before the wi-fi kicks out, so he powers on his laptop and writes down the location of the nearest twenty four hour ammunition shop (yes, they have those for some ridiculous reason) and he checks to make sure that Louis has fallen asleep before he heads out.

He doesn’t take the car, because he had filled it up with gas earlier that day, and he knew they were going to need it the next morning. Somehow, he finds a wagon in their garage. He vaguely remembers Louis saying something about wanting it for  when they had children of their own, and he allows himself the slightest of smiles before pulling it behind him to the gun shop. He buys a variety, thanking his career in advertising as he sets them in the wagon, throws his jacket over them and the hundred or so boxes of ammunition he bought before he heads to his next stop, and stocks up with as much as he can fit into his wagon. Mostly non-perishables, but he allows himself the case of chocolate bars he knows that Louis loves, and the Vitamin D milk that Louis loves, because he knows those are things that they won’t find in a few months time, and.. they should enjoy the luxury while they have it. He even buys a couple of boxes of Yorkshire, just to keep his boy happy. He always, always, always wants his boy happy. And that’s going to be something that’s essential for, at least, the foreseeable future.

He’s read up on zombies. Knows that it’s a virus that goes around and that if you’re bitten you have less than a week before it takes over and gets into your system and you’re turned. Sometimes it’s twenty four hours, but he’s really hoping that he’s dealing with the ones that turn in a week. That’ll give him more time to think, more time to sort out what’s happening.

He’s not expecting to run into anything just yet. And he doesn’t. He makes it back to his flat quietly and without incident, carries the groceries up the stairs and puts them away. Thankfully the power hasn’t gone yet.

He puts the milk out on the balcony anyway. It’s December. It’s cold enough that the milk will probably freeze over, but he thinks that’s okay for now.

He sighs, crawls back into bed next to Louis and pulls him close, watches as the smaller man snuggles into his arms, buries his face in between the swallows on his collarbone.

“You said ten minutes.” he mumbles. Harry presses a kiss into his hair with a sigh. “That was more like an hour.”

“Had to get some things.” Harry replies quietly, thinking about the two shotguns and three pistols he has sitting on their kitchen table. The newly restocked cupboards and the shelves in the bathroom that are now full of Louis’ favourite shampoo.

“At four in the morning?” Louis asks, his voice dripping with speculation.

“Shh, go back to sleep.” Harry says, hoping that it’ll be enough to settle him down for the night. “I’ll explain to you in the morning just, sleep for now. Please, sleep.”

Louis just nods, blinks once, twice, three times, and then his breathing evens out and he’s asleep.

Harry doesn’t sleep. Not even for an hour.

His head is too full.

 

Louis screams when he sees the guns on the table and Harry has to grab hold of both of his arms and force him to look at him before Louis calms down enough for him to explain what’s happening. It’s nine in the morning. They haven’t even had tea.

 

They start moving the next morning. Harry loads everything in the range rover and they siphon the petrol from Louis’ car into a can that Harry keeps in the garage. They set it in the boot, and try their best to not think about what’s happening. They blast the Fray and the Script and they sing along like idiots, listening to the rustle of the grocery bags as they make the forty minute drive from Manchester to Holmes Chapel. Louis does that thing where he pushes his fringe out of his face in nerves, and Harry squeezes his hand.

“I’m going to keep you safe.” He says. His mind flies back to the guns stashed under the seat. “I promise, I’m going to keep you safe.”

It’s an unspoken agreement between them that Louis is going to do everything Harry says without argument, and Harry lets out a sigh as they pull into his mum’s drive. She meets them at the door, confusion all over her face.

“You two are suppose to be in Barbados.” she says, hugging them both as they step inside. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“Mum, do you have any idea what’s been going on?” Harry asks. She shakes her head no. “It’s the apocalypse, mum. A zombie one. We needed to get out of Manchester to where it’s safer, at least for now. The cities are going to get it the worst.”

“A.. a zombie apocalypse?” she says, nervous laughter in her voice. “What on earth are you talking about? I mean, I knew you were obsessed with World War Z and all of that nonsense, but—“

“No, mum.” Harry says. “This is real. This is happening. And Louis and I needed to get somewhere that’s safe for now. This was the only place we could think of. Please tell me you still have water.”

“Our water works fine.” she says, speculation in her voice. “Harry, darling. I think you’re imagining things again.”

“No, I’m not!” Harry says, getting hysterical. It’s dark out and they have to get in the house because who know’s who’s been bitten and who hasn’t? “I’ve been trying to tell all of you for ages that this is going to happen and now it is and you think I’m crazy! None of you would bloody listen to me! Look at the news! I bet London and Manchester are going mental! Let us in, please! It’s dangerous to be outside at night.”

His mother sighs and he knows that she thinks he’s mental, that they both think he’s mental, but he knows he’s not. And she starts to believe him when the BBC is reporting live from Manchester and showing footage of people being mauled by zombies. He’s pretty sure that that’s why she faints in his arms, but. He can’t be too sure.

Louis just sighs, leads Harry up the stairs to his room while his mum sleeps the shock off on the couch and they make love. Sweet and slow and they fall asleep, the false sense of security washing over them like a rain storm, lulling them off into dreams.

 

They’ve been with his mum for a month before she comes home with a bite mark on her neck and red eyes. And Harry is stuck, because he knows what’s going to happen. He’s watching her change before his eyes, but he can’t shoot her. He just can’t. It’s still his mum. But it’s not his mum. It’s a monster. And that’s what he tells himself when he pulls the trigger and tugs Louis out to the Range Rover, letting him drive while he cries hysterically in the passenger seat.

 

A year of travelling passes and it doesn’t get any easier. They lose the car about eight months later. By some miracle they’re able to find a petrol station that hadn’t been drained and they pumped whatever they could into whatever gas cans they could find. Louis rigged some siphon out of a funnel and some tubing, so they were able to pump the gas themselves. But like all things, they ran out somewhere in North Yorkshire, and couldn’t find anymore anywhere. So they start travelling on foot, and Harry has to give it to Louis. He’s being such a trooper. He’s so proud of him.

 

Harry shows him how to use a gun on their third month of travelling on foot. Shows him just in case anything happens.

“But nothing is going to happen to you, Harry.” Louis says with a tired sigh. “You promised to keep me safe. I don’t see the point in learning.”

“Humour me, please.” Harry says with a sigh.

Louis hits every target on the first try, and Harry finds it so sexy that he fucks him against the nearest tree with a hand over his mouth, and then they find somewhere safe for the night.

 

It’s cold when they reach the next town. Harry barely recognises the streets, barley notices that Louis is teary-eyed as they walk through the grass, Harry’s gun held at shoulder height, his heart pounding. Louis has his little hand slipped into Harry’s front pocket, tensed and ready to jump behind him if anything happens. Zombies are active at all hours of the day, and Harry can’t lose Louis.

He doesn’t realise it’s Doncaster, until Louis’ hand leaves his pocket and he strays to the left.

“Louis!” Harry shouts, turning in the direction he wandered. He sees the house then, recognises that front walkway and the overgrown hedges. The front door stands ajar, the mailbox rusted and knocked over. The grass nearly at Louis’ hip. It’s his house. Louis’ house. The place he grew up in.

He lets Louis wander ahead inside before he follows, doing a sweep of the area through the scope on his rifle. It’s clear. For now.

There’s obvious signs of struggle when he gets inside the door, and he feels a rush of sadness run through him. But there was nothing he could have done. There wasn’t any way for he and Louis to get to the girls before it had happened. They had been moving the country in a circle. Starting in Holmes Chapel and working their way east to Derby, then south to Cambridge, west to Bristol, back up north to Wolverhampton.. Carefully avoiding as many major cities as they could to avoid the worst outbreaks. They had agreed at the time that that was best for them, but now… Harry wishes they had gone farther north to Yorkshire while they still could have.

His heart breaks when he reaches Louis’ old room and sees Louis himself standing, facing his old bed, with silent tears streaming down his face.

“They’re gone.” He whispers. “Mum and the girls.. gone.”

Harry just holds him tight, lets him fold a picture of the five of them into his wallet, lets him grab a teddy, a football and a blanket, and then they continue on their way. Louis walking a little behind him, Harry’s rifle loaded and ready.

 

They’re walking in the woods when Harry hears it. He walks over a patch of grass and it sounds and feels like he’s stepping on something hard instead of soft earth. So he falls to his knees, presses into the spot. He has a feeling of what lies beneath the spot, something that no Zombie nor human would look for.

Then he finds it, buried beneath the layers of grass. So well concealed no one would know it was there.

It’s a notch carved out of the wood, which has been pressure sealed so it will never rot. He can tell just from the way the edges are smoothed out. He grins back at Louis.

“Louis. I think…” He trails off as he lifts the door. There’s a rope ladder that drops down about ten feet, hanging off the edge.

“What?” Louis asks. “Harry, what is it? What’s down there?”

“Keep guard, Louis.” Harry says. “Please. I’ll only be a moment, okay? Promise.”

So Louis watches him descend the ladder, keeping his hand tight, finger on the trigger of his pistol. Sometimes he feels like the younger one, rather than Harry. The taller boy is so protective, and Louis doesn’t really mind.. He just. Sometimes he wants to help, rather than stand behind and watch.

“Louis!” Harry’ voice echoes. There’s a mix of both joy and urgency and Louis doesn’t know how fast he should react. “Louis! Come quick! Come on! Hurry!”

So he jumps down and onto the ladder, slips his pistol in his waistband, only to see Harry, grinning from ear to ear in a dull glow of light, coming from an oil lamp.

“What the..”

“It’s safety!” Harry says, his smile so big it’s splitting his face in two, tears of delight streaking down his face. It’s so much better than the war-torn Harry that Louis has seen in the past few months. “We’re safe! Louis! Look at this!”

It’s bigger area than he expected, kind of like a TARDIS. It was bigger on the inside, and it was clear that someone had put a lot of thought into it. Everything is panelled in pressure wood, and there are even wood boards holding up the dirt ceiling so there isn’t a very large chance of collapse. But even so, there are metal circular doors against the back walls that he could only assume were hiding escape tunnels, just in case.

There is a closet with spare clothes pushed against the far wall, and there is a metal tub in a corner with a screen made of sheets for privacy. And there was even..

“A sink.” Louis said with relief. “Harry there’s a sink!”

“Not only is there a sink,” Harry says as he walks around, admiring. “There’s about three months of non perishables, soap, tooth paste, tea, running water, and.”

He cuts off dramatically and Louis laughs as he pulls a screen back to reveal a bed.

“No more sleeping on the ground, lovey.” Harry says, walking over to him slowly. “No more making love against a tree. We’re at least fifteen feet down and completely safe. We can stay here as long as you want.”

Louis just sighs, closes his eyes in content, buries his face into Harry’s chest and breathes him in.

“A bed.” he says into Harry’s chest. “A bed.”

 

They’ve been in the bunker for a month when Louis wakes Harry up with his crying because he wants milk. And Harry tries to find it for him, he really does. He tries so, so, so hard. Because he loves his boy and always wants him to be happy. He can’t even find a stray cow like he had so many times before. It’s only zombies and humans turning and he’s so fucking scared and all he wants is to get Louis his milk but he can’t find a fucking cow. And he’s too young for this but this is his life.

But he picks himself up, shoots at whatever is coming his way, and carries on. He has to keep it together. In this world, there’s no room to fall apart.

He catches a look at himself in a hubcap on the side of the road, decides he needs a haircut, and that he’s going to ask Louis to do it later. It’s then that he sees it, the bright spot of red in the corner of his eye. It’s just laying there, draped over a tire that had gone astray. A bright splash of color in the dirt brown he had come to find as normal. It’s out in the open. He can get to it in about thirty steps, if he runs. And. Maybe. This will make up not finding milk to Louis. It’s nearly winter again, now. And that means that Louis will be twenty four. It could be an early birthday present, actually.

He wants so desperately to make his boy happy.

So he raises his gun at shoulder level, swivelling his head back and forth between each direction on the street as he crosses. One second of looking in the opposite direction too long and he could be mauled. Could be infected. And that’s one thing he can’t do. He cannot do that to Louis.

Harry knows that he worries him. Louis, that is. He knows that when he comes back with cuts and bruises and sprained joints Louis is curious. But he doesn’t ask questions. Just asks Harry if he can go out next time, get the supplies. He wants to help. He doesn’t want to sit around. And Harry says “maybe next time, babe. Maybe next time.”

It never happens and Louis gets angry. Sleeps on the cold ground with thin blankets covering his shoulders. It’s as far away as they can get from each other in the bunker because no matter how mad Louis is, he won’t put himself in danger by going for a walk. He knows he can’t do that, and if he did. It would just be showing his stupidity.

Louis isn’t a stupid person. He might do stupid things to make Harry laugh. Like the time Harry had come home and Louis had balanced a spoon on his nose. But even then, that was just fucking endearing.

 

He gets back to the bunker as the sun is starting to fade and Louis is standing outside, in the wide open, a juggling a football on his knees. He doesn’t see Harry, and he takes off, dribbling around the trees and back to the bunker.

Harry clenches his fists in anger and folds his arms. That comment he made about Louis not being stupid? Well. He takes it back in his head just as a Zombie peeks around a tree, his yellowing eyes set on Louis.

Harry’s heart stops, and the zombie starts to walk towards Louis. It’s hungry.

“Louis! Get the fuck out of there!” Harry screams. Louis whips his head around to where Harry’s voice came from, and Harry points behind him. He looks, stoops down to pick up his football and sprints away, back to the safety of the bunker while Harry fires.

If he had gotten there thirty seconds later, Louis would have been turned and Harry just can’t think about that.

The thing is, is that Harry stays calm and rational most times. Really. He’s the type of person that just goes with whatever. He always has been. Even now, when there’s zombies trying to kill him at all hours of the day. That’s just how he is. He’s collected. He thinks things out.

But right now he is not the least bit rational, and when he gets back down into the safety of their bunker, and sees Louis laughing he completely loses his cool and starts destroying everything in sight.

“You can’t - just fucking - go outside!” He shouts, as he knocks over their table, throws a dish against the wall. “Not alone! You know that! You’re such a fucking idiot!”

Louis is backed into a corner by this time. In their five years of dating and then marriage, he’s never seen Harry quite like this before. They’ve gotten into fights before, yeah. But. None of them were because of life or death situations like this one.

“I’m not fucking twelve years old, Harry!” Louis shouts back. He’s seemingly recovered, and he never backs down. “I’m twenty five! I can fucking shoot a gun and you need to trust me! Look!” He throws his leg up onto a chair, pulls his sock down. “I had a fucking weapon!”

“I don’t give a shit, Louis!” Harry shouts back. “You were so wrapped up in your bloody football you didn’t even hear it!”

“Yeah well you weren’t home yet! What the fuck else was I going to do? Sit around and worry about you getting turned and me not knowing and dying here alone?! I don’t think you get how scared of that I am! I needed something to distract me!”

“What about the puzzle I found you two weeks ago?!”

Louis laughs then, laughs hysterically and it’s empty. It’s not the warm laugh that Harry is used to and so he swipes all the clean dishes off the counter and collapses onto the floor.

“Fucking hell, Harry.” Louis says, trying to catch his breath. “I’m a fucking footy player and you want me to be content doing a puzzle? Jesus Christ that’s hilarious!”

Harry sighs, and rubs his hands over his face, and Louis’ laugh turns warm. At Harry’s expense, of course. But that’s not anything different than always. And it’s nice because Harry hasn’t heard it in so long that he feels a smile split across his face. Because Louis always finds something to tease him about. But it makes him so happy that he can barely stand it.

“You’re so silly, Hazzabean.” he says softly. Harry hears him walking across the room and he feels Louis drape himself across his lap a few moments after. “But I just can’t sit around, you know? Like. I can’t. That’s not how I am.”

“I know.” Harry says with a sigh. “I know it’s not. I just. I don’t want to lose you. You’re all I’ve got left and. I promised myself at the beginning I wouldn’t let anything happen to you if I could help it.”

Louis sighs and rests his forehead on Harry’s shoulder, and Harry lets his hands travel up and down his back.

“I’ve found you a jumper, as well.” Harry says, pulling the supply pack he carries with him to his side. He reaches in the front pocket and pulls the material out. “It might be a bit big but. I know you like them like that.”

Sometimes Harry wonders how he’s going to survive. If he’s going to be able to make it through this without killing himself. If he’s going to make it without being turned. If he’s going to be able to keep killing. What they’re going to do when the supplies run out and they have to move on. He thinks about the big questions on a daily basis.

But the way Louis lights up when he sees the jumper, how he instantly slips it over his head and tackles Harry to the floor.. That’s all that fills up his head. All he can think about. And they can get through anything.

He knows it.

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up on tumblr, theydontneedcapes!


End file.
